


Interplay

by misura



Category: The Night Manager (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "A man with discerning taste?" Roper smirked. "Of course, that's little more than a fancy way of saying that you're picky. Are you picky, Pine? Don't trust old Dickie here to find you something you like?"





	Interplay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jasmasson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmasson/gifts).



"No appetites?" Jonathan summoned a smile. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." He allowed his gaze to meet Roper's, then slide away just so, saying nothing.

Suggesting - well, that was up to Roper.

"What would you say, then?" Roper's eyes had widened for perhaps a fraction of a second, before he'd gone back to the way Roper usually looked. Calm. In control. Coolly amused by the world's antics.

Untouchable. _You're going to nail him,_ Angela Burr had told him. _Yes, I am._

"Oh, I don't know." Jonathan shrugged.

"A man with discerning taste?" Roper smirked. "Of course, that's little more than a fancy way of saying that you're picky. Are you picky, Pine? Don't trust old Dickie here to find you something you like?"

"That's not what I said."

"I should hope not," Roper said. "Be bloody insulting if it was."

"Should I apologize?" Jonathan asked. He didn't think Roper would give up control, even -

Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to strengthen his cover. To see Roper stripped of his clothes, his public persona. The real Richard Roper. The monster in its den, all unsuspecting.

"For what? Something you didn't even say?" Roper chuckled. "Nah. Unless of course you get off on that sort of thing. Service industry - must have been _something_ you were getting out of that work."

"Is it so hard to believe that I simply wanted a job?"

"Well, you're not working in a hotel _now_ , are you? So what made you decide to change careers, I wonder. Coincidence? Fate? My winning personality and great personal charm?"

"Money?" Jonathan suggested.

"Good God, man. Do you have no sense of poetry at all? Besides, it's a bloody lie," Roper said. "Guy like you - it's never just about the money. Want me to prove it to you?"

"All right."

"I'll give you two - no, let's make it five. Five hundred bucks, if you get down on your knees right here, right now and, well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination. No need to get crude, with both of us men of the world."

Jonathan licked his lips. Part of him watched the scene play out in his head, Roper's hand holding his head, Roper's voice talking to him, instructing him.

Part of him wanted to spit in Roper's smug face. That wouldn't turn out too well, he rather thought.

Roper chuckled. "Methinks I touched a nerve there. Lot of guests getting handsy? Wanting you to provide some personal room service?"

Jonathan managed a chuckle in return and said, "No. Both to your question and to your ... very generous offer."

"Well, I'm a businessman, you know. Can't afford to promise you millions - not for _that_ , anyway." Roper studied him. "Still. Old and British and rich. That's your type?"

"I prefer to think I don't have a type," Jonathan said.

Roper snorted. "Don't we all. Me, now, I like young, I like pretty, and I like exclusive. I take it very poorly when someone else thinks they can play with my toys."

"Toys," Jonathan echoed. He didn't know what his tone was giving away. Nothing he didn't want Roper to know, he didn't think.

"You get to where I am in the world, you get used to calling things what they are." Roper rose. "And with that pearl of wisdom tossed into the mud, I'm off to bed. Want to come along?"

As simple as that. He should refuse, Jonathan thought. Politely, of course, in a way that would make it all a joke, something between friends who'd drank a bit too much. Nothing serious. Nothing that would mean he would no longer be in Roper's good graces tomorrow morning.

Roper was watching him, his expression knowing, as if he knew exactly what Jonathan was thinking.

Jonathan got up slowly. "All right," he said.

Roper smiled, triumphant. "Good boy."


End file.
